“A little patience, my dear, and I will. I need not say that palm-trees do not grow in all the countries where there are Christians. Even in Italy the climate does not suit them. There is, however, one small sandy valley, open to the sea and the southern sun, on the coast of Genoa, where the date-palm is cultivated on purpose to supply Rome with branches for Palm Sunday; and I have heard it said that it is the exclusive privilege of _one_ family living in a village on the coast to furnish these branches, because it is descended from a sailor to whom the right was granted in reward for having, by quickness and presence of mind, saved the lives of hundreds, and ensured success to the raising the immense obelisk of Egyptian granite in the Piazza di San Pietro, where it has stood ever since the days of Pope Sixtus the Fifth, who was pope from 1585 to 1590. At his command it was raised out of the earth in which it lay buried by the enterprising skill of the architect Domenic Fontana. Crowds assembled to behold the wonderful work. Silence was enjoined to all upon pain of death, that nothing might for one moment draw the attention of the workmen from what they were about, or prevent their hearing the signals agreed upon. A Genoese sailor, however, accustomed by his seafaring life to the management of ropes, perceived that the cords to which the obelisk was fastened were slackening, and, in defiance of the order, loudly cried out, ‘_Acqua_! _acqua_!’ (Water! water!) Fontana instantly understood his meaning and the danger, and ordered pails-full to be brought and splashed over them, by which means the ropes, which had been dried too much by the sun, were quickly tightened again, and the heavy obelisk saved from falling upon the workmen.” “Oh, papa, how could that be?” said Mary. “When you go home, your brothers will shew you the difference wetting will make in the length of a rope, and then you will understand my story better. I am sure Molly and Jane know it already by their washing-lines. But to finish my story. “The brave sailor was tried and sentenced to be put to death for disobedience to the Pope’s orders; nor was it (the story goes) without difficulty that Fontana obtained his pardon, and, as it seems, a slender reward for so great a service. “It is probable, too, that this family may be employed to manufacture artificial branches, when (as is frequently the case) the trees themselves do not supply a number equal to the demand. {9} This they contrive by tying reeds and sedges to willow wands, in imitation of the palm leaf, and placing a portion of the _real_ palm at the tip of the mock one.” “Oh, thank you, papa—thank you. What a pretty story, what a brave, good man the sailor was; how I love him! I hope it is quite true, papa. “Indeed, my dear, so do I, and I am inclined to believe that it is.”